Читать книгу A Father’s Revenge - Kitty Neale - Страница 9

‘Granddad, what’s really wrong with Gran?’ John asked. ‘I’ve never seen her like that before.’

Driving the lad back to Winchester, Bernie knew he had to be careful with his words. In the past it had been easy enough to tell John that his gran suffered from headaches for which she took pills, but the lad was growing up now and Bernie doubted he could fob him off with the same story. He decided to tell him the partial truth.

‘Your gran had a nervous breakdown from which she never fully recovered,’ he explained. Though of course there’d been more to it than that. Dolly had lost her mind, ranting and raving like a mad woman. It was only the treatment and the pills she had been taking since leaving hospital that kept her on an even keel.

‘Was it because my real dad was sent to prison?’ John asked.

‘I’m afraid it was partly to blame. Your gran doted on Kevin and it knocked her for six.’

‘Poor Gran,’ John murmured.

‘Don’t worry. As long as she takes her medication, your gran is fine,’ Bernie assured him. John might be like his father in looks, but he was nothing like him in character. The boy was gentle, caring and it had become clear from an early age that he hated any form of violence. Growing up in Winchester, John had a love of the surrounding countryside, along with animals, wild or tame, and it was something they shared. With this thought, Bernie smiled. He wasn’t sure how Pearl would feel about it, but knew that John would love the gift he had planned. He was looking forward to the boy’s birthday.

The drive back to Winchester had the same soporific effect it always had on John and Bernie saw that his head was soon nodding. While the boy slept, Bernie reflected on Kevin’s letter and the news he would have to break to Pearl. He doubted she’d be pleased to hear that Kevin was up for parole again. When Pearl married Kevin, Bernie had hated the way that both his son and Dolly had treated her. At times he’d tried to intervene, to make things a little easier for Pearl, and the two of them had grown close.

‘Are we nearly there?’ John said sleepily.

‘No, we’ve a fair way to go yet,’ Bernie told him, yet a glance showed him that the lad had gone back to sleep already.

He wondered what effect Kevin’s release would have on John, and doubted it would be a good one. As far as Bernie was concerned, he felt that Kevin should serve his full time: after all, the jeweller that he’d bludgeoned over and over again, leaving the poor sod brain-damaged, was going to suffer for the rest of his life. He also thought that Kevin’s so-called religious conversion was unlikely to be genuine. Even before going to prison, Kevin had never done an honest day’s work. Dolly had funded his idleness, but if his son thought that things were going to be the same when he got out, he was going to be very disappointed.

Bernie smiled with satisfaction. He handled their money now, but after buying the cottage he knew the rest wouldn’t last forever. Though nervous at first, he’d discovered a talent when it came to investing in the stock market and had gradually quadrupled their savings. Fearful of his luck changing, he’d finally turned his shares into cash and with the interest it was earning, they were comfortably off.

‘John, we’re here,’ Bernie now said, gently nudging his grandson.

John blinked his eyes, then slowly unfurled his limbs to climb out of the car. Bernie followed him to the front door of the small, flat-fronted, terraced house.

‘Mum, Dad, we’re back,’ John called as they went into the house.

Pearl appeared, smiling when she saw them. ‘Bernie, thanks for bringing him home earlier than usual. My mother has no idea that we’re laying on a special tea for her fiftieth birthday and it wouldn’t be the same without John being there.’

‘Where is she, Mum?’

‘Next door with Tim.’

‘Tim?’ Bernie asked, his eyebrows rising.

‘Timothy Blake, our next-door neighbour. He hasn’t been the same since his wife died last year and Mum often goes round to keep him company. We got Tim to ask her to pop round when we came back, but it’s still been a mad dash to get everything ready and the table laid. Come and see the cake,’ Pearl invited as she led them through to the kitchen.

‘Derek, hello,’ Bernie said and after his greeting was returned he duly admired Emily’s birthday cake.

‘I won’t be a minute. I need the bathroom,’ John said, hurrying off.

Bernie took the opportunity to talk to Pearl and Derek out of the boy’s hearing. ‘Dolly heard from Kevin. He’s … well … he’s up for parole again.’

‘Do you think he’ll get it this time?’ Pearl asked worriedly.

‘With his so-called religious conversion, Dolly seems to think so.’

Pearl frowned. ‘What do you mean, so-called conversion?’

‘When it comes to Kevin, I’m not as gullible as Dolly, yet she seems convinced it’s genuine,’ Bernie admitted. ‘On her last visit Kevin was even spouting that if he’s refused parole again it must be because God has work for him to do within the prison; that his calling might be to help the other inmates. He says if he does get out, he’s going to start up some sort of refuge for alcoholics and homeless people – lost souls as he calls them.’

‘Goodness!’ Pearl exclaimed.

‘I doubt there’s any goodness involved,’ Bernie said, ‘especially as he was probably hinting for a substantial donation.’

‘Do you think he’ll want to see John?’

‘I don’t know, love. Dolly seems to think so, but she knows you’ve got sole custody. Mind you, John’s curious about his father and said today that he’d like to see him.’

Pearl’s face paled. ‘But what if Kevin tries to take John away from me?’

‘He’d better not,’ Bernie growled. ‘And anyway, if you tell John the truth about Kevin, he won’t be so keen to see him.’

‘No,’ Pearl protested. ‘He’s far too young to cope with it yet.’

There was the sound of footsteps and John appeared in the doorway, bringing the conversation to an abrupt end.

‘Well, lad,’ Bernie said, ‘I’d best be off, and Pearl, tell Emily I said happy birthday. I’m sure she’s going to be thrilled with that cake.’

‘Yes, she’ll love it,’ Pearl agreed, ‘and we’re taking her to the theatre tonight.’

‘That sounds right up Emily’s street,’ Bernie commented, then said his goodbyes. He was thoughtful as he got into his car. They were a happy family and having lived in Emily’s house since he was a baby, John had only ever known love and stability. If Kevin got out, all that could change, and Bernie found himself again hoping that his son would remain in prison.

At five thirty, Emily clapped her hands with delight. ‘Oh, look, Tim, it’s such a beautiful cake.’

‘Yes, it is,’ Tim agreed as he held out a chair ready for her to sit down.

The cake was in the centre of the table, and there were cucumber sandwiches, tiny rolls stuffed with tuna, some with egg, and lovely home-made biscuits. Emily smiled as she looked around the table. Her friends, Libby Moore and her husband, were smiling back, her gorgeous grandson too, and of course Derek and Pearl. From the day she had found her daughter again, Emily’s life had been full of joy. They had lived together for thirteen years now and were very close, with Derek moving in too when he married Pearl. They had been happy years, yet it still hurt Emily that she had missed so much of Pearl’s childhood.

Emily would never forget how furious her father had been when she had become pregnant out of wedlock. She had been kept a virtual prisoner in her parents’ large house, out of sight of anyone, and when she had given birth she was heartbroken to be told her baby was stillborn. Many, many, years later, when her father was on his deathbed, he had taken great delight in telling her that she would inherit nothing. He had then confessed that her baby hadn’t been stillborn after all, that she had lived, and he’d abandoned her on the steps of an orphanage. Her baby had been found clutching a tiny button, and with no other form of identification that was how she’d been named: Pearl Button, though of course she was now Pearl Lewis.

Derek laughed at something Pearl said, breaking Emily out of her reverie. She hadn’t been sure about Derek at first. She had heard all about Pearl’s first husband, Kevin Dolby, and Emily feared that as the two men had known each other, Derek would be cut from the same cloth. Thankfully she’d been wrong: Derek was a wonderful man and she’d become very fond of him.

‘Happy birthday, Gran,’ said John as he held out a package.

Emily unwrapped the gift, loving the pretty box of handkerchiefs with lace edging and her initials embroidered in one corner. ‘Thank you, darling. They’re beautiful.’

‘This is from us, Mum.’

In the small box, Emily was thrilled to find a delicate gold chain hung with a pretty pearl locket. ‘I just love it,’ she said, smiling with happiness.

‘Emily, I’m so sorry,’ Tim said softly, obviously embarrassed. ‘I haven’t got you a gift.’

‘It really doesn’t matter,’ she told him, just glad to have him there. She had been friends with Delia, Tim’s late wife, and had always been fond of them both. Tim had been lost when Delia died, but just recently Emily’s platonic friendship with him had slowly begun to develop into something more. Of course he was still grieving and it was far too soon to take things any further, but maybe, in the future … just maybe …